Pity she loved letting him.
* * * * *
Charlize followed Connor into the hallway of his home. He lived about twenty minutes outside the city in a freaking idyllic family neighborhood, complete with actual front yards. Not what she’d expected. Not what she’d hoped. They stopped in a sunny kitchen, a little dated but pretty. Clean. Buttery paint on the walls, white cupboards. Pots hung from a rack above the counter. A picture-perfect suburban home just waiting to be filled with some blissful little family. She could just imagine… Little old Charlize, barefoot behind that counter, belly round and—
A mixture of longing and fear so sharp it stole the pulse right from her chest washed over her. She closed her eyes.
“Don’t like my kitchen?”
She blinked and looked at him. His forehead drew tight. Shit, she probably seemed like a complete snob.
“It’s just not the man pad I expected.” She glanced around. “Where are all the motorbike parts? Spare tires for that beast you drive maybe?”
He grinned. “You haven’t seen the garage.”
“Now that would make sense.”
Connor walked around the coffee table in the family room. “This is actually the house I grew up in. I bought it off my parents a few years ago so they could get into the retirement community they wanted.”
“Oh…”
She watched him pick up a photo from a low side table. He handed it to her and she hesitated a moment before taking it. Seeing Connor like this, a family man, the kind of man who would want to fill the house he grew up in with a family of his own, made her heart sink low into her belly. The photo showed a younger Connor, one with dark hair that hung over his forehead, smiling with an attractive older couple, his arm around a striking brunette.
She gripped the frame harder. Shit, they might not be dating—not officially—but if he was showing off his hot ex, she’d lose it.
“My mum and dad and sister Beth.”
Of course, his sister…not everyone was a lonely only child. Other people had real families. Fathers who didn’t go crazy and mothers who didn’t run off.
“Didn’t know you had a sister.” She should have recognized the resemblance. The woman had the same intense eyes as Connor except hers were framed by longer lashes.
“Don’t get to see her much—she’s a lawyer in New York. Just made partner too.” He smiled and took back the photo and set it on the counter.
“You seem very proud.”
“Of course I am.”
Yes…he was…she could see it in his smile. He was proud of his younger sister, fancy-pants New York lawyer and all.
Yeah it was stupid to think he wouldn’t be proud of his sister’s achievements, but then every man she’d ever cared for including her own father had wanted to put her in her place. That domestic, dutiful little place that did not include big dreams and ambitions.
Connor showed her around, ending in his room where he collected his things from the adjoining bathroom. The bedroom lived up to her man-cave expectations. High-polish black bed and the hugest flat-screen TV money could buy mounted on the opposite wall. Her gaze kept moving to the bed. Couldn’t help wondering who had shared that bed with him. If it would be her one day.
He came out of his bathroom with a sports bag. “You ready?”
Was she? To go shopping maybe, for what might come next—not so much. But she couldn’t resist finding out. Besides if he planned to give her the “boyfriend” experience, only fair she gave him the girlfriend one right back.
* * * * *
Charlize turned in front of the mirror, examining the back of the fitted black gown. Her gaze caught Connor’s in the reflection. Not this one. He didn’t have to say anything but with every dress she’d tried on she learned a little more about how to rattle him. When she showed a little back, his shoulders would shift. Good… If it hugged her ass, then he’d touch his chin. Freaking excellent…let him squirm.
Payback was beautiful.
He might like to think he was master tormentor but he wasn’t quite the machine he’d like her to believe. He’d proven that every time she’d deliberately brush against him and he’d jerked a little. She had this girlfriend thing down pat. He was just about putty. She smoothed the dress over the swell of her backside and watched his jaw clench.
She didn’t smirk. If he caught on, it’d be game over. If she had her way, by the end of this trip he’d be the one begging for once. Her insides tightened and her lips tingled. After the way he’d teased her earlier, this would be sweet, sugar-dusted revenge.
Charlize changed out of the black dress and browsed the store, making a few choices that fell wide of her usual criteria. She selected a shimmering red number with a split right up the thigh and tried not to grin like a toddler dipping her finger in the honey pot.